


The Whole in the Sum of the Parts

by fourth_rose



Category: Bones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-07
Updated: 2012-06-07
Packaged: 2017-11-07 04:21:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/426858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fourth_rose/pseuds/fourth_rose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Children change things – sometimes for the better, sometimes for the worse, and sometimes from the very beginning. Season 1 AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Whole in the Sum of the Parts

Great, now he's thinking of Becca again.

 

Booth picks the wayward piece of candy wrapper out of his son's blond curls and bundles him into the car seat, carefully keeping his focus on the present. Parker is tired and grumpy, but they're running late already, and the SAC has made it very clear that his patience is wearing thin. Booth tries not to dwell on that either; he got plenty of warnings from well-meaning superiors that he was committing career suicide, and he isn't sorry he ignored them even though he might have underestimated at the time just how serious they were.

 

It doesn't mean there's no sting when he sees another brainless twit get promoted while he's stuck behind the same rickety desk, but you just can't work the hours the Bureau expects from its top agents with a four year-old waiting to be picked up from daycare. Things will get better when Parker is older; it's the mantra he clings to, although he can only hope that _he_ won't be too old for a serious career in the field by then.

 

Things would be different if Becca hadn't left.

 

Booth snorts without humor. Yeah, sure they would be – he'd have another meaningless fling in his past, and he'd be broke because of gambling debts instead of daycare fees and babysitters. He'd still have women chatting him up whenever he sets foot into a bar instead of seeing one flirty smile after the other slipping the moment they hear the words "single dad", and every weekend not spent working on a case would still be a blur of neon lights, poker chips and too much cheap alcohol.

 

He casts a quick glance at Parker in the rear view mirror and can't bring himself to resent her for leaving. Sometimes he does – when it all gets too much, when he's behind on everything and Parker wakes up with a cough and a fever, or when he has to hand over another interesting case to an agent who _doesn't_ have a small kid he's responsible for 24-7. At other times, though, he remembers the look on her face when she handed him the baby, _his_ baby, and he hates himself for putting her through all this. He can't regret it, though; he wouldn't have Parker if he hadn't.

_I don't have a maternal bone in my body, Seeley._ She has always been honest with him, and he appreciates that – not that the matter would ever have come up if it hadn't been for that little accident with the condom, because by the time he came back from his last deployment with the memory of a blood-spattered boy standing shell-shocked over his father's corpse, he had stopped thinking about ever having a family. The concept seemed like a stupid boyhood dream that had faded in the harsh light of reality, and it felt only fitting that none of his relationships ever went anywhere. Becca was fine with the arrangement, busy as she was with what looked like the beginning of a very promising career, and they were both content to enjoy what they had while it lasted.

 

She laughed in his face when he proposed after the stick turned blue, and he still cringes with embarrassment at the memory – not because of her laughter, but because he knew even then that he didn't want to spend the rest of his life with her, that he just wanted this _baby_ with a desperation that took him completely by surprise.

 

He catches another flash of Parker's fair hair – his mother's hair, he looks more like her every day – in the rear view mirror and feels a quick, unexpected surge of affection for the woman who didn't want any of this and went through with it anyway. Sure, it took weeks of arguing, pleading and finally begging, but in the end she relented, and until today Booth can't fully believe that she really cared about him enough to carry the child she never wanted to term for his sake.

 

He hasn't seen her since the day Parker was born. That was her most important condition – she let him name the baby, gave him full custody, even offered to pay child support (he has refused to far, although he isn't sure how much longer he'll be able to afford his pride), but she would leave immediately after the birth for a new start in a different city, a different law firm, a different life altogether. In a way, it made things easier for all of them – or at least Booth likes to think so. Parker has asked a few times why some of the kids at his daycare center have daddies _and_ mommies, but so far he accepts the explanation that it's just how things are, that some kids have one parent and others two in the same way that some kids have siblings and others don't.

 

Booth isn't looking forward to the day when the boy won't be satisfied with that answer any longer, but he has learned by now not to dwell on things he can do nothing about. He glances at the clock on the dashboard and can't help the grin that spreads over his face as he steps down on the accelerator; he has a long, boring meeting and a ton of paperwork to get out of the way first, but then it'll be time to go to the airport and save a certain forensic anthropologist from the clutches of Homeland Security.

 

+++

 

He's just as arrogant and irritating as he used to be; yet when he steps right into her personal space at the shooting range, that heavy, tingling sensation in the pit of her stomach is back. She knows it's nothing but a normal physiological response dictated by evolutionary necessities, but that doesn't make it any less powerful.

 

Only, this time she's prepared for it.

 

+++

 

He's prepared this time, and yet she gets under his skin just as easily as she did a year ago. Only, this time he's determined not to let her walk away; she's infuriating and tactless and incredibly stubborn, but she's also brilliant in a way that makes his head spin. They're off to a bumpy start, but when he walks away from Cleo Eller's funeral with her, Booth allows himself a moment of hope that this will actually work out; that the next time he calls her his partner she won't scoff at the idea. Getting the country's most famous anthropologist to partner up with him might provide a much-needed boost to his lagging career, but he's well aware that it's not the only reason he wants to keep working with her. Maybe she'll turn out to be more trouble than she's worth, but this is one gamble he's still willing to take.

 

They part on good terms after the funeral, her promise to help him with his "cosmic balance sheet" still at the forefront of his thoughts when he picks his son up from daycare and takes him home. Parker soon takes Booth's mind off everything else, but once the boy is in bed, Booth can't keep his thoughts from wandering back to the tumultuous last days.

 

He really shouldn't have arrested her. The charges won't go anywhere, of course, but he still can't help feeling that the whole thing might come back to bite him in the ass. It occurs to him that he didn't even apologize afterwards; she probably thinks he enjoyed doing everything by the book so he could get one over her.

 

_Damn._

 

An hour and a few pleading phone calls later, Booth leaves a slightly grumpy teenager – Sid's eldest daughter – on his couch with the remote, a twenty-dollar bill and the solemn promise to be back in two hours. He usually tries to avoid leaving Parker with a sitter if it's not absolutely necessary, but for some reason he feels that setting matters straight with Bones can't wait.

 

Then he's outside her apartment; he has never been here before, but as he raises his hand to knock, it hits him that this is where he almost ended up with her during _that_ night a year ago.

 

_"I feel like this is going somewhere."_

 

He didn't say it out loud, of course, just like he had bitten back the confession about the small boy waiting for him at home under the supervision of a babysitter he could barely afford. He couldn't fool himself into hoping that she wouldn't run for the hills as soon as she found out, and he wanted to put off that moment for as long as possible.

 

She kissed him back with no hesitation, but she still told him they weren't spending the night together, and of course they weren't. He had a son to go back to, a son who – he realized with a pang – was about to see his father come home drunk for the first time in his young life, even though Booth had promised his boy on the day of his birth that it was never going to happen. It wasn't enough to tear him away from her, though, because in spite of her earlier declaration, she didn't stop kissing him.

 

She was plastered all over him, her curves molded against his body in a way that left nothing to the imagination, and she didn't complain when his hands slid down to her ass and pulled her hips against him in a move that made them both gasp. His head was swimming, and he was no longer sure it was just the tequila. He heard himself say, "Right here, then?" in a voice that sounded barely like his own, and her only reply was a throaty laugh as they stumbled into the narrow alleyway between the bar and the neighboring building.

 

Then his pants were around his knees, and hers were around her ankles; he stepped into the circle of her legs, into the soft, slick warmth of her body, and it didn't matter any more that they were in a dark, wet, _public_ place, that this was wrong and crazy for a dozen reasons. He knew about quick and dirty, but not about this mad rush of sensation that made the world around them disappear for a few glorious, breathless moments.

 

Reality caught up with them both at once as soon as it was over. She pushed him away and struggled back into her jeans while he just stood there for a second, his mind reeling and his heartbeat overly loud in his ears. He was slower to get dressed than she was, and he stepped out of the alley just in time to see her flag down a cab. She didn't look back at him, just opened the door and climbed in, and he was left standing at the curb and staring after her until the car was out of sight.

 

Booth clenches his teeth and wills the memory away. This is not the moment to remember, _so_ not the moment to dwell on how she felt in his arms, how he can still almost taste the mix of tequila and peppermint lip gloss and _her_ whenever he doesn't keep a tight rein on his thoughts.

 

_Focus, dammit! You want to be her partner, so stop thinking with your dick; you know how well that turned out the last time._

 

Taking a deep breath, he finally knocks and tries to remember how he was planning to explain why he's showing up on her doorstep unannounced at nine o'clock in the evening. It takes a while, but eventually there's the sound of approaching footsteps, and then the door opens to reveal a harried-looking Bones in a ratty old t-shirt and a pair of baggy sweatpants.

 

"Booth, what are you doing here?"

 

She sounds annoyed, but it barely registers with him; he's too busy staring at the tiny, mewling bundle she's cradling in the crook of her arm.

"What is _that_?"

 

"It's a baby, Booth. You know, a small human?"

 

"Since when do you have a baby?"

 

"Since I gave birth to her."

 

Her tone is sharp; the tiny girl begins to fuss, and Bones starts rocking her as she steps back into the apartment. She doesn't seem to care whether Booth follows or not.

 

He trails behind her in a dazed mix of shock and rising anger; she raises her eyebrows when he sits down heavily on her couch without waiting for her to offer him a seat, but she doesn't comment. Instead, she informs him that her daughter's name is Christine as if she were making introductions, and her nonchalant tone is the final straw that causes his anger to win out over the shock.

 

"What's her middle name? Tequila?"

 

She doesn't react at all, just keeps rocking the baby, and Booth realizes she's actually making him ask the question outright. She remains unfazed, which doesn't come as a surprise at this point, and replies coolly that her daughter's paternity is undetermined. The clinical statement takes care of the rest of his self-control; does she have a suspect pool in the double digits or what? He fully expects her to take offense at that, but she merely shrugs and tells him it's none of his business.

 

Booth feels his jaw drop, but she keeps talking as if they were having a friendly chat by the water cooler. Her daughter's middle name is Angela because Angela was with her every step throughout the pregnancy; Angela also took care of the baby while Bones was in Guatemala, and Booth remembers what he knows about the capricious artist and can't imagine how anyone in their right mind would entrust that woman with a child. His thoughts must show on his face, because the look she gives him warns him that it's not his call to make, and he's _really_ beginning to see red now. He has known since he first met her that she marches to the beat of her own drum, but this is something else entirely.

 

"How could you run off to Guatemala in the first place when you have a baby? She can't be older than…"

 

"Five months. They wanted me for two months, but I only agreed to ten days to work the most difficult cases. I wasn't happy to be away from her for so long, but it was necessary."

 

"Why the hell…"

 

"Because those victims I identified were someone's children too."

 

That shuts him up long enough for his rational mind to catch up at last. Whatever is happening, _has_ happened here, getting into a screaming match with her will only make things worse. Booth takes a deep breath and tries to collect his racing thoughts; Bones doesn't even seem to notice his sudden silence while she tries to calm the fussing baby. She sits down on the couch next to him, and before Booth has fully registered what she's doing, she has lifted the hem of her t-shirt up over her breast. She's not wearing a bra underneath (not that he didn't notice the moment she opened the door), and the baby latches on eagerly and digs her tiny fists into the soft flesh, all her earlier protests forgotten.

 

Booth squirms in his seat; he has no idea whether he's expected to look away, act nonchalantly, or offer to leave so she can breastfeed her child in peace. She lets him stew for a while, her eyes firmly on her daughter, before she reminds him with a hint of amusement in her voice that there's no reason for him to be embarrassed because it's not like he hasn't seen it all before.

 

He thinks of that moment in the dark, rainy alley and, before his brain has a chance to catch up with his mouth, blurts out that he didn't _see_ all that much back then. She laughs, but doesn't otherwise comment, and Booth finally gives up pretending to look elsewhere and watches her nurse her daughter until the baby stops suckling and her eyelids begin to droop. Bones gets up and walks out of the room with her, leaving Booth alone with his whirling thoughts.

 

_Five_ months. It's that number that gives him pause; no matter how he looks at it, the timeline doesn't fit. Their one… encounter was a little over a year ago, so this baby would have been conceived – a month before that? Two? Or was she born prematurely?

 

_None of my business, my ass_. He still has trouble believing anyone could be so callous, but he has no idea where it leaves him. He knows how stubborn she is; if she has made up her mind, she'll fight him tooth and nail if he insists on a paternity test. And even if he wins that round somehow, even if it should turn out that this little girl _is_ his daughter after all – then what? Sue her for visitation rights with money he doesn't have, and have her sue him for child support he can't afford in return?

 

He knows he's in no state to decide anything right now; he'll have to think this through very carefully once he can think straight again, because one thing is certain – if he decides to fight her on this, he'll never see her again outside a courtroom. It took him almost thirteen months to get her to speak with him again after last time, but another falling out is going to be their last. Christ, what a fucking mess –

 

"Is there something you'd _like_ to see?"

 

He does a double-take; she's standing in the door, a saucy grin on her face, and tosses him something that, when he catches it out of reflex, turns out to be a foil-wrapped condom. He stares at her with wide, incredulous eyes – she's kidding him, she's _got_ to be kidding him… but she stalks towards him like a cat closing in on its prey and babbles about biological urges, and how she feels more than ready to become sexually active again, and how she finds it more difficult than before to choose a suitable partner because of the constraints the baby puts on her life ( _Tell me about it_ , his traitorous subconscious chimes in). She adds triumphantly that she researched the FBI's non-fraternization rule only to discover that it's more of a loose guideline as far as consultants are concerned, and that she's glad he obviously shares her pragmatic approach when it comes to sex.

 

That's when it finally dawns on him why she thinks he came to her place tonight.

 

"I'm not here for a booty call!"

 

"Your pupils are dilated, your skin is flushed, and I can see that your pulse is accelerating. Sexual arousal is the most likely cause, but if you'd prefer me to look for indisputable evidence…"

 

She steps right between his legs and moves forward until her knee presses gently against his groin. Booth manages to bite back a moan, but she still grins smugly. "Q.E.D."

 

His mind is still reeling, but damn, he hasn't felt a woman's touch since that brief thing with Tessa went nowhere, and that was months ago. She grabs the hem of her milk-stained t-shirt and pulls it over her head in one fluid movement, and Booth stares at her full, soft breasts and realizes that every woman he has ever known would have taken the chance to change while she was in the other room. She's standing before him in worn-out cotton, completely unselfconscious and secure in the knowledge that she's the most gorgeous thing he has ever seen no matter what she's wearing.

 

And then she's wearing nothing at all, and her hands are busy with his shirt and belt, tugging and pushing and touching and – God, there's no tequila to blame this time, but she goes straight to his head just like the first time, and like then he suddenly feels like he's going to explode if he has to wait just a second longer. He may not have seen much of her back then, but his hands remember her, and the new, soft fullness of her breasts and hips under his touch takes his breath away. He figures they should go slow if this is her first time since… but she's already in his lap, her thighs straddling his hips, and sinks down on him as her mouth finds his.

 

Once again, time seems to speed up, touches and kisses and moans and thrusts and the slick slide of skin against skin blending together into a frenzied dance that leads up to a breathless fever pitch. Then it's over, and reality comes back in an icy rush that is no less brutal than the last time – only now he's the only one reeling while she calmly slides off his lap and settles down next to him on the couch, seeming utterly at ease even though she's stark naked and still breathing hard.

 

He, however, feels uncomfortably exposed with his shirt hanging open and his pants and boxers tangled around his ankles, and he hopes she doesn't notice his blush while he hastily covers himself. He probably shouldn't have allowed things to get out of hand, but at least he might get a chance to really talk to her now –

 

That's when he remembers with sudden alarm that he's on a deadline, and that it might cost him his most reliable babysitter if Sid's daughter isn't back home on time. A brief glance at his watch confirms his worst fears – he'll barely make it if he leaves right now, and there's absolutely no time to set _anything_ straight with Bones first.

 

_Fuck, fuck, fuck…_

 

"Listen, Bones – I'm really sorry about this, but I have to leave. I – "

 

"Of course you do." Jesus Christ, she sounds like she was _expecting_ it. "I'll see you when we have another case?"

 

"Uh, yeah – sure."

 

She doesn't accompany him to the door, which is probably just as well given that she's still not wearing anything, and Booth lets himself out with the sinking feeling that he couldn't have made a more perfect mess of things if he'd tried.

 

+++

 

The acrid stench of smoke and burned flesh isn't the only thing that makes Booth's stomach clench while he waits for the Jeffersonian team to arrive at the scene of the bombing; he's doing his best not to let on how nervous he is, but he has no idea how things are going to be between them once she shows up. The last time he found himself in a morning-after situation with her, things blew up in his face in a way that led to thirteen months of radio silence, and he isn't convinced that they're going to fare any better this time.

 

It turns out that he needn't have worried. She bursts onto the scene like a queen taking possession of her realm, but she acts like everything is perfectly normal between them, and even though he knows he should be relieved, he feels just the tiniest bit irked by her cool professionalism. Still, she gets the job done, and Booth follows her around carrying plastic bags filled with charred body parts and tries to clamp down on the slow burning of anger in the pit of his stomach at the thought of a terrorist attack in the middle of _his_ city.

 

They get into a fight over that just a few hours later, when she berates him for "making it personal", and it pretty much sets the tone for how this case is going to be. It's both infuriating and fascinating to work with her – her total lack of tact or consideration in the interrogation room makes him cringe, yet _she's_ the one to build a rapport with the suspect's wife, and he gets a lot of petty amusement out of the way she's freezing out Homeland Security. Agent Gibson is a good guy, but it's the principle of the thing, and Booth has a hard time keeping his face straight when Gibson complains to him that the "mad scientist chick" has refused to cooperate with anyone but her FBI partner.

 

In the evening, he takes Parker home from daycare but puts the babysitter on alert because SAC Santana has made it clear that he expects Booth to come back in at any given time during this case. It's a nightmare of parental logistics, but this is one case he's _not_ going to hand over, and for once it has nothing to do with his career. He wonders how Bones handles things with her baby girl during times like this.

 

Santana doesn't disappoint, and Booth is just getting ready to leave when the doorbell rings. It's not the babysitter he's waiting for, though – for some reason, Bones decided that she had to deliver her findings to him in person. She starts listing facts, but stops abruptly when Parker comes running into the room yelling "Daddy, look!" and waving a newly finished crayon drawing at him. The awkward silence is filled with Parker's excited chatter; he doesn't even seem to notice her, and only Booth's admonition to say hello to their visitor makes the boy focus on her long enough rattle off a quick greeting.

 

She still seems taken aback, and Booth almost feels guilty for keeping the fact that he has a kid from her, but that feeling fades quickly when he reminds himself of her little secret that _he_ stumbled across just the other night. Then the sitter arrives, and they're free to leave; Booth hugs Parker good-bye and ushers Bones out the door before she can get another word in.

 

He can tell she's curious, but he keeps his mouth shut on the way to the Hoover; he'll be damned if he gives her anything about his private life considering how she reacted to his perfectly justified question about her daughter's father. She can't keep quiet for long, of course, and starts going anthropological on him, but he'll have none of it. He's well and truly on edge now, and he finally gets her to shut up about her "solitary alpha male" crap by pointing out that he wouldn't have pictured _her_ with a child either.

 

She's like a dog with a bone, though; as they proceed with the investigation of what has now turned into a murder case, she keeps bringing up Parker at every opportunity. She doesn't even stop when they run into Angela at Wong Fu's (those squints are like ants – once you have one in your place, the whole swarm follows), and when Bones walks out on him in a huff, he's left in the clutches of a crazy artist with zero sense of personal boundaries who immediately starts grilling him about his son's mother.

 

He wonders if Angela has any idea who the father of Bones' baby is, but he knows better than to ask her.

 

+++

 

She really wishes Angela would stop trying to play matchmaker. She knows that her friend means well, but Angela has all those outlandish notions of love and romance and what she calls "magical moments", and Brennan can't get her to accept that she doesn't believe in any of those. It's the reason she never told Angela that she had intercourse with Booth, and she's determined to keep it that way – she was very glad to discover that Booth shares her views on casual sex without emotional entanglements, and she doesn't want Angela to interfere with what she considers a very satisfactory arrangement. She and Booth both have very demanding careers and small children to take care of, so it makes sense to turn to each other when there are biological needs to be met.

 

She still can't quite wrap her mind around the idea of Booth as a father.

 

+++

 

They end up at Wong Fu's again when it's all over. It's late, and he really needs to pick up Parker from daycare, but he hates the idea returning to his child with fresh blood on his hands. Bones reminds him of the lives he saved, and even though it doesn't ease the familiar churning of guilt in his stomach, he's pleasantly surprised that she's trying to make him feel better.

 

He knows that there are things they should discuss, but after today he just doesn't have the energy. What he really wants right now is another drink, but Bones places her hand on his arm and tells him to go home to his son, and he's reminded that she, too, has a child to go home to; that they both have lives which don't intersect when there's no gruesome murder involved.

 

He has no idea if that's ever going to change, or if he even wants it to change, or if they'll go back to hating each other in a week, but right now they're okay, and he figures it's enough.

 

+++

 

Booth knows it's going to be a long day as soon as the kid first opens his mouth. He already suspected that Bones' assistant is a few cards short of a full deck, genius IQ or not, but seriously, who asks someone he barely knows about his sex life on the way to a crime scene? It doesn't help that Bones does nothing to stop her sidekick, and even gets defensive when Booth tells him to shut up – apparently, she isn't bothered at all by the awkwardness of the topic while it leaves him squirming in his seat with embarrassment.

 

"Agent Booth, you call after every sexual encounter, right?"

 

Is it just him, or is Bones giving him a sidelong glance? He _so_ doesn't need his mind to go back to that night in the alley, or to that mess of an evening during the Eller case – he has barely touched her since then, but it's not like he hasn't been thinking of it, and the fact that he has no idea if she has been too makes him feel like he's walking through a minefield blindfolded. It's almost a relief to take out his frustration on the baby squint until the brick wall of smug superiority he runs into at that snobbish prep school presents him with a much better target for his foul mood. As far as Booth is concerned, the snotty SOB of a headmaster and that weasely slimeball who handles campus security (congrats on a job well done with students swinging from tree branches) are in for a lesson he's more than happy to teach them.

 

Of course, they have their own ways of stirring the pudding, and Booth soon has his SAC breathing down his neck and the squints looking down their noses at him for insisting that the whole thing stinks. His mood brightens for a moment when Bones decides to back him up, but she pretty much shoots him down again by insisting that some people are indeed better than others because they're smarter.

 

He can't help wondering if that's how she feels about him; if she let him fuck her just for the thrill of slumming it with a guy she considers beneath her. During their drive to the home of the victim's parents, he's so wound up that he almost asks her if she, too, went to some posh private school for geniuses until he remembers in the nick of time that she spent her high school years in the foster system. So he just reminds her to behave like a human being around the grieving parents and takes some grim satisfaction from the affronted huff he gets in return.

 

+++

 

Brennan doesn't understand why it matters to the ambassador whether she, too, is a mother. The woman seems to think it will make her better suited to investigate her son's murder, and Brennan can't help wondering if she really can't see the implied insult. She owes it to the victims not to let her emotions cloud her professional judgment, and she would never burden her daughter with being the reason for her mother doing less than her best in her search for the truth.

 

She remembers Booth's admonition and tries to say things that will bring comfort to a mother who's grieving for her son, but she doesn't know how to deal with the fact that the ambassador's biggest worry seems to be whether she "raised her son right". Brennan doesn't want to dwell on the idea that her own child's life might be cut short, but if it were, she's sure that the only question she would ask herself would be whether every day of Christine's existence was as happy as it could have been, not if she lived up to anyone's expectations.

 

+++

 

No amount of pain that Booth can dole out among the upper-class assholes from Hanover prep makes up for having to watch amateur sex tapes with the Squint Squad. He reminds himself not to make direct eye contact with anyone in the room – Bones is out for obvious reasons (even more so because he can't get the image of her kicking that security guard's ass out of his mind), Angela's crazy fixation with his sex life really doesn't need encouraging, and Zack is probably just waiting for the chance to ask him another question that will force Booth to finally make good on his promise to shoot him.

 

He's sick and tired of being ridiculed and belittled and being lied to, and by the time he's back in the interrogation room with a bunch of snotty parents and pompous top-notch lawyers, he's ready to strangle someone with his bare hands. He's had it with the uppity attitude from a bunch of people who have the morals of a pack of hyenas (the kiddie-diddling mom is just the icing on the cake), and on top of that Bones keeps berating him for "being irrational" and "going with his gut" until he wants to ask her why she was willing to screw a guy she obviously considers to be some kind of Neanderthal.

 

Yet she's the one to crack the case, to find him the evidence he needs to prove that his gut was right all along, and she even plays a pretty convincing round of Good cop/Bad cop with him when they finally nail the brats who believed they would get away with murder because their mommies and daddies are richer than God. She insists she didn't do it for him, that she's only interested in finding the truth, and it's something he can live with even if he would have preferred a different answer.

 

They walk in on another squint invasion at Wong Fu's, and Booth doesn't miss Bones' brief hesitation when she sees her co-workers gathered at Booth's usual table. He figures he owes her one after all, so he gives her an out and draws a line between "his" territory and "theirs" so she can be with her fellow geniuses without feeling obliged to stick with her FBI partner who'll never be a part of her weird fellowship of brainiacs.

 

She, however, surprises him again when she boldly walks up to "his" counter and starts rambling about his knack for reading body language and stress indicators.

 

"I've told you before that someone like you could benefit hugely from an association with someone like me, but it appears that our partnership could actually turn out to be mutually beneficial, so putting up artificial dividers seems rather counterproductive." With that, she hands him an access card to the lab and adds smugly, " _Viribus unitis_."

 

_By joint efforts_. The few scraps of Latin he still remembers from his altar boy days are just enough to figure that out, but now that she has extended the olive branch, he suddenly isn't certain he should take it. He appreciates the gesture of giving him free access to her scientific sanctuary, but the sad truth is that she could do better than him – she could have her pick among the FBI's best and brightest, and he's never going to number among them while he has a small child to take care of. She doesn't even let him finish when he tries to remind her of that, though; instead, she informs him calmly that the constraints her own child puts on her time don't affect her professional standing because she's the best in her field, and that he might very well achieve a similar status if their partnership becomes permanent.

 

The mind-boggling arrogance of that statement is so _her_ that Booth has to laugh, but he can't help feeling a little touched by her insistence to keep working with him. Of course, that thought leads to the question what else she might want to keep doing with him, and he teasingly asks her, just to gauge her reaction, if she's that eager to hold on to him.

 

Bones doesn't even blink; she merely rattles off a list of rational reasons why she considers it logical to continue their partnership, so he's none the wiser when she eventually gets up and leaves him alone at the counter.

 

Sid gives him a knowing grin, but Booth just rolls his eyes and goes back to eating his pie.

 

+++

 

For the first time, she finds herself wondering if she was right to keep the identity of her daughter's father secret. She doesn't usually question her decisions once she's made them, but the amount of horrible parenting she has seen throughout this case sends her thoughts down unfamiliar paths while she feeds and bathes Christine that evening.

 

She knows, of course. She has never made an effort to have the paternity confirmed, but not only is she able to do basic math, she can also see the resemblance in her daughter's bone structure.

 

It doesn't matter, though. It's what she reminds herself of when she sits in the rocking chair in the nursery with her baby in her arms; Christine keeps her tiny fists clenched into her mother's shirt as she falls asleep, and Brennan doesn't fight the wave of fierce protectiveness that rises at the sight of her daughter's unquestioning trust in her.

 

There's no way around the cold, hard truth: that every man in her life has walked out on her, that even her father, who used to be her rock throughout her childhood, disappeared without a trace one day, and even though she tries to cling to the belief that only death could have taken her parents away from her, she remembers the pitying looks she got from cops and social workers while they whispered behind her back (but never quite out of earshot) how it was much more likely that nobody could find her parents because they didn't _want_ to be found.

 

She remembers what it means to have a father, but also what it means to lose one, and she's going to protect Christine from going through that at all costs. You can't lose what you never had, and she isn't going to gamble her daughter's happiness on the off chance that a man who has never had anything to do with her might actually want to be a father to her. Neither will she allow anyone in her daughter's life who's only there because he feels obliged to be; she knows how it feels to be an obligation to people who are little more than strangers, and she'll never let that happen to her child.

 

Brennan stays in the rocking chair with Christine long after the baby has fallen asleep; she'll be sore and tired tomorrow, but she finds that she can't let go. She's well aware that maternal instincts are among the most powerful biological drives, and even though they can sometimes be overwhelming, right now she finds she's content to just give in to them.

 

+++

 

Booth does his best to appear cheerful when he breezes into her office armed with photos of a severed hand found in a bear's stomach, even though he's so tired he can barely keep his eyes open. He got up at some ungodly hour of the morning to make it back from Philly on time; he doesn't often leave Parker with Pops (Parker loves his great-grandfather, but the boy can be a handful, and Pops isn't getting any younger), but he really wants to work this case, and he figures the two of them will be okay for a few days.

 

He isn't sure if the same will be true for Bones and him in the wilderness, but he'll just have to take his chances.

 

It takes some effort to convince her, and once he finally does he has to bite his tongue when she leaves Christine with Angela again (seriously, Angela seems nice and smart and everything, but he still doesn't see how anyone could leave so much as a goldfish in her care) and then calls both the Jeffersonian daycare _and_ Angela a gazillion times while they're on their way to Middle of Nowhere, Washington. He can't resist teasing her a little for being a helicopter mom, which earns him an icy "I don't know what that means" and forces him to pretend that he's stopping for a bathroom break when he wants to call Pops to see how Parker is doing because he's sure he'd never hear the end of it.

 

Then it's small-town America and half-digested body parts and a sheriff who drools all over Bones, but the fact that Booth gets to whisk her away before the guy has a chance to ask her out (or to propose right away, considering how hard up for eligible good-looking women they seem to be in this place) goes a long way towards easing the sting of having to stay in a crappy motel room while she's residing at some posh lodge on the taxpayer's dime.

 

The next day starts with bear crap and goes downhill from there. By noon he gets a lecture on cannibalism that makes him sick to his stomach, by nightfall they're out in the woods chasing a park ranger with a freezer full of what might be human flesh, and after the Sheriff's flashlight dies Bones rats Booth out to Angela and makes it sound like it was _his_ fault that the suspect gave them the slip.

 

But then she takes him to a bar and doesn't let go of him once he cuts in to save her from having to dance with every horny loser in this town, and suddenly the day doesn't seem so bad after all. It's almost midnight when he finally drops her off at her hotel, and he half expects her to berate him for keeping her up late when she has work to do in the morning, but instead she turns towards him and asks him almost casually if he wants to spend the night with her.

 

It's not like he wasn't expecting her to jump him again at some point (okay, maybe there was a bit of hoping involved as well), but the blunt offer still leaves him speechless. She gives him a grin and repeats Angela's "What happens in Aurora stays in Aurora" from earlier before hopping out of the car and leaving it up to him whether he'll follow or not.

 

He does, of course; perhaps it's not the smartest move given that they're here on official business, but it's not like his brain is still doing much of the thinking at the moment.

 

She's all over him the moment they stumble through the door to her room; he figures that they've finally got time to take it slow, but she'll have none of it. They shed their clothes on their way to the bed, and he's on his back with her straddling his hips before he knows it. He's already inside her by the time he remembers that they both forgot about protection, but she brushes the matter aside with a mumbled remark about oral contraception and then makes him forget about everything else when she grabs the headboard with both hands and starts riding him in earnest.

 

It's the same heady rush he remembers, but it's strangely new as well because this time they don't have to be quiet, and it turns out that Bones is quite loud when she's getting close. He might have gasped a few things himself that he probably shouldn't have said as he bucks into her, but she doesn't seem to hear him anyway; she's completely focused (the same kind of total, intense concentration he has seen her direct at her bones, and he has no idea why that thought turns him on further when it should have the opposite effect) on making him lose his mind until he can do nothing but dig his fingers into her hips and let her take him over the edge with her.

 

She makes no move to cover herself with the sheets when she stretches out next to him; she's breathing hard, and her eyes roam over him with an expression that is a strange mix of clinical and predatory. He can only hope he isn't blushing, but at least he finally gets the chance to look his fill as well, and it strikes him again just how gorgeous she is. Seeing without touching suddenly doesn't seem enough any more, but her eager reaction when he reaches for her makes it clear that she wants to move on to round two right away. He should probably be flattered, but there's no telling when – if ever, because he still has no idea where this whole thing is going – he'll get the chance to do this with her again, so he wants to savor her, and every inch of her breathtaking body, as much as he can.

 

She seems puzzled at first when he laughingly tells her to slow down, but then nods sagely. "I understand; the average refractory period in males over thirty – "

 

"Whoa!" Booth stops her with a kiss before she can say something that will _really_ kill the mood. "No squint speak in bed, Bones, okay?" He pulls her closer and flips her over so that his face is directly above he when he tells her with the cockiest grin he can muster, "My turn to drive."

 

She's not one to give in easily, of course; she uses every trick in the book to make him lose control, but this time he's prepared for it. She may prefer hard and fast to slow and gentle, but this time he's the one calling the shots, and after a while she gives in and lets him take the lead just like she did on the dance floor. She still wouldn't recognize romance if it poked her in the eye (when he nuzzles her breasts, she starts giggling and asks him if he's stopping for a snack), but he's amazed how soft and pliant her body can be once she decides to stop struggling for dominance, and for a moment he wonders if any other guy has ever made the effort to bring out that side of her. She moves with him at the slow, sensual pace he sets, and he has to bite his lip to keep himself from saying something stupid when she starts quivering underneath him and then clenches all around him as she comes.

 

The moment he rolls off her, she moves away. A few seconds later, she's under the blankets with her back to him and switches off the lights, and Booth finds himself in pitch darkness with an sudden urge to punch the wall in frustration.

 

A part of him expects her to kick him out, but when she remains silent, he finally sighs and inches closer to wrap his arm around her waist from behind. She stiffens and asks him what he's doing, and Booth almost laughs at the indignation in her tone.

 

"I'm resigning myself to being the girl in this rel… partnership."

 

"What? Why?"

 

"Because someone's got to, and it obviously won't be you."

 

He keeps his tone light and does his best not to wonder where the hell _that_ almost-slip up came from. She's quiet for a while, but when she finally speaks again, the familiar tone of cool, composed rationality is back.

 

"You're the one with the gun, you insists on always driving, and you think _you_ 're forced into the stereotypically female role?"

 

Booth sighs again and lets his head drop into the crook of her neck. "Good night, Bones."

 

+++

 

She doesn't understand why he's grumpy just because he had to eat breakfast without her – she likes to rise early when there's work to do, and it's not her fault that he proved downright impossible to wake. The day turns out to be long and exhausting, but by the end of it they have caught a cannibalistic killer, and even though they're both dead on their feet by the time he drops her off, he flashes her a beaming smile when she promises to buy him breakfast the next morning.

 

She isn't sure why he's so fixated on making her pay for his breakfast, but she would have missed out on a very interesting case if he hadn't convinced her to come, so she figures she should show her appreciation.

 

+++

 

Booth sleeps through the alarm the next morning, and when he finally wakes up he's already late for meeting Bones, so he just throws on some clothes, makes a quick call to check on Parker and decides to come back later for his luggage.

 

She rolls her eyes at his tardiness, but then insists on accompanying him to his room to help him pack even though he's a little weirded out by the idea of her going through his underwear, which is probably weird in itself considering that he didn't mind at all when she ripped it off him. She doesn't do much anyway, just watches him throw his stuff into his bag, but when he's about to head for the door she steps right into his path and reminds him calmly that they're still in Aurora.

 

It takes him a moment to get what she's talking about.

 

"Bones, I've got to check out in… fourteen minutes, there's no time!"

 

"There is if we do it my way."

 

_Jesus Christ._ The low, almost purring tone gets to him just like it did that first time when he could still blame the tequila, and just like then, he has her against the nearest wall with her legs wrapped around his waist before he fully realizes what they're doing. He briefly wonders if this was already on her mind when she decided to wear a skirt today, but it hardly matters – not when her nails are digging into his shoulders as he pushes into her and starts thrusting in that rough, frenzied rhythm that makes her head fall back and her muscles tighten around him. It's over in no time at all, and Booth leans heavily against her for a moment and tries to catch his breath.

 

He has no idea where they're supposed to go from here, and what kind of reaction he'd get if he actually had the guts to ask her, but he's sure that no matter what Angela says, some things that happened in Aurora will be difficult to leave behind.

 

+++

 

He's getting territorial; it was to be expected considering the alpha male traits he displays at every opportunity, but she still has to ask herself if she didn't overestimate his rationality when it comes to the nature of their sexual relationship. She makes sure to casually mention over breakfast how Charlie the Overnight Guy invited her to go skiing with him, and how perfectly his hips and thighs are developed for strength and maneuverability, and Booth's reaction proves that he needed the reminder of the limits to their arrangement.

 

The most logical solution would be to terminate their sexual relationship altogether, but Brennan finds that she's rather unwilling to take such drastic measures. His physical traits combined with his impressive skills make him a very desirable partner, after all; she just wishes she could prevent the irrational emotional reaction he sometimes evokes in her. She wonders if it's an indication that her post-partum hormones are still a little unbalanced.

 

It's just sex, this shouldn't be an issue for her. Sure, that drunken fuck in the alley was not her usual style, but she knows about biological imperatives, and how powerful they can be. Humans are creatures of instinct as well as rational beings, and even though she doesn't always like it, she accepts the ramifications of her physical make-up. That, however, doesn't mean she'll ever allow her baser instincts to overrule her rational mind. Yes, she lost control that time, but she made sure to take it back during their next encounter, and as long as she's able to maintain that kind of balance, she's confident that she'll be able to handle any possible repercussions.

 

Right now, though, she just wants to go home to her daughter.

 

+++

 

Booth still isn't sure how he feels about Bones' rising fame as an author. He read her book right after it came out, of course, and he has been wondering ever since what he's supposed to make of the fact that the woman who swore she'd never work with him again then came up with a storyline that was mostly about a forensic anthropologist and an FBI agent doing each other (or at least, those are the parts he remembers).

 

Teasing  her about it is fun, but gets him absolutely nowhere; her only reaction are dark looks and exasperated huffs, nothing that would give him any indication what she was – or is – thinking about the things happening between them. It's so easy to misstep when you don't know where you're standing, but she keeps stonewalling him no matter how much he pokes and prods. She's steadfast in her dedication to their partnership, though, so he figures that's something.

 

Still, there are days when it's difficult to deal with her clinical, detached way of looking at the world, and the case with the dead little boy pushes his patience with her to the limits. He knows that in theory, her way is the smart one in their field of work, but he can't help seeing Parker in that set of pitifully small bones on her table, and when he hears her berate Zack for referring to the victim by name he wants to yell at her that normal human beings can't just shut off their emotions when they're inconvenient.

 

Then she figures out that the victim wasn't his mother's biological son, and suddenly things are going from bad to worse when he has to arrest the woman and to send her two foster kids back into the system. He expects Bones to react badly to that, but her point-blank refusal to even acknowledge the fix he's in makes him furious.

 

It doesn't matter that he hates himself for what he has to do to those kids – doesn't she get it that he has no choice, that sometimes he has to put his heart in a box and do his job because the decisions aren't his to make? Doesn't she understand that he can't just ignore the law if he feels like it, that there are rules he has to stick to whether they seem fair to him or not?

 

It turns out that she doesn't.

 

She won't listen to anything he has to say, won't see reason no matter how many fact-based arguments he presents, and Booth feels like he's suddenly on the wrong side of the fight because Dr. Brennan, queen of rationality, is flying by the seat of her pants with a fiery determination that he might consider a massive turn-on if it didn't infuriate him so much.

 

Later, he's going to ask himself why he didn't have the guts to do what she did; why _he_ wasn't willing to spit protocol in the eye and move heaven and earth to send two small boys back home to their mom. He stands behind the one-way mirror of the interrogation room with a baffled juvenile prosecutor and watches Bones holding a sobbing little boy who's whispering his terrifying secret into her ear, the secret that will lead them to Charlie Sanders' killer, and he silently promises her to never, ever make her regret that she trusts him to be on her side even though he has given her no reason why she should.

 

The image of her hugging Sean Cook stays with him while he goes to arrest the murderous perv who crushed a small boy to death so he wouldn't cry out. In his mind, he keeps hearing her talk about garbage bags and strangers and places that aren't home, and he finds himself wondering if that was her reason for having the baby, if bringing a child into this world was the only way she saw to have someone in her life who would truly be hers.

 

It's still on his mind when he comes to her office to tell her about the arrest. To his surprise, he finds her with her daughter; it turns out she's taking her home early from the Jeffersonian daycare because she needs to go change for some posh social function for the museum. Booth asks if she needs a sitter for the night since Angela won't be available (he makes it sound like a joke, but he finds that he actually wouldn't mind since he'll be home with Parker anyway), and even though she informs him that she's employing a nanny for such occasions ( _of course_ a woman who gets given sports cars as gifts can afford a nanny), she seems a little touched by the offer.

 

Booth watches her bundle up Christine to take her home, and suddenly he has to ask.

 

"Why did you have her?"

 

She gives him a confused look, but now that he has already broached the subject, he figures he might as well go through with it. This is Bones, he reminds himself; blunt honesty is the way to go.

 

"I mean, she wasn't planned, was she? And I can't imagine that you'd have a problem with, you know, taking care of it…" Damn, that came out wrong, and he half expects another slap around the face, but she just shrugs.

 

"I don't have moral objections to abortion, if that's what you mean; less than fifty percent of human zygotes are carried to term even without outside interference." The calm statement reminds him of the odds his son had to beat in order to be born, but she keeps talking in that same clinical tone; she sounds as if she were reciting a list she made long ago when she ticks off reasons why having the baby was the logical choice, from being financially secure enough to raise a child to the fact that society as a whole will benefit from her passing on her superior intelligence to her offspring.

 

He almost calls her on her bullshit (because nobody – not even Bones – has kids because it's _logical_ ) until he notices the slight edge of defensiveness that has slipped into her voice; only then does it occur to him that she might think he asked because he doubts that she's fit to be a mother.

 

Once again he's hit by the image of her hugging that foster boy, and he curses his knack for always putting his foot in his mouth when it comes to her, but he can't think of a way to make up for his blunder without making her think that he's patronizing her.

 

Didn't he admonish _her_ during the Eller case that you didn't get to ask personal questions without offering anything personal in return?

 

That's how she finally ends up with answers to all those questions about Parker he refused to discuss until now; it's the only way he sees to make things even between them. He tries to keep it short, but still gives her the entire story; he doesn't even edit out his idiotic proposal, although he's deeply grateful when she doesn't comment on it. She seems thoughtful when he's finished, but her expression doesn't give away what she's thinking.

 

"I'm surprised you were so adamant that you wanted to raise your son even though, by your own admission, you had no idea what you were getting yourself into."

 

Booth shrugs; there's not much he can say to that.

 

"Do you regret it?"

 

That's one question he didn't expect, although this one is easy to answer. "Never have, never will. Doesn't mean it isn't tough at times, but he's worth it."

 

"I understand."

 

She doesn't, of course. She probably thinks he's talking about unreliable babysitters and lack of sleep and being passed over for promotion; she has no way of knowing about the things that really keep him awake at night, from the gut-wrenching fear of ever losing his temper with his son like his own father did with him to his dread of the moment when Parker will be old enough to ask him about the lives he has taken.

 

Thankfully, Bones seems to consider the topic closed, and when she starts complaining about the dent in her car's passenger door that is somehow his fault, he takes it as his cue to leave.

 

He's back at the lab two hours later to save Hodgins – the bug man may be a secret millionaire, but the guy's okay, and Booth figures that being Bones' partner means he has to accept her squints as part of the package. Hodgins gives him a deeply grateful look and skedaddles with the bag of powdered sugar that Booth filched from the FBI break room while Goodman ushers the rest of his crew out of the lab, but Bones stays behind for a moment.

 

Booth did his best not to look at her earlier, but now that it's just the two of them he can't help drinking in the sight of her in her fancy evening gown, and he finally has the nerve to ask her why she was so sure that he'd keep her promise to Sean Cook.

 

"I knew you would back me up, Booth – I knew you wouldn't make me a liar."

 

She gives him a little smirk and then walks out to follow the others, and Booth stands rooted to the spot and tries to wrap his mind around the concept that his super-smart, super-rational partner has _faith_ in him.

 

"Bones, wait!"

 

He catches up with her in the corridor just outside the lab, and once she turns, he takes her face in his hands and kisses her.

 

She freezes, but then her lips part just a little, and she leans into the kiss for the fraction of second before pulling away. Booth looks at her, his hands still on her warm, smooth skin and his brain strangely blank, and wonders if he's just imagining the slight blush that's coloring her cheeks.

 

"What was that for?"

 

"For being you, Bones."

 

_Jeez, Seeley_. He knows what he meant to say, but the way it came out is so cheesy that it makes him cringe, and he fully expects a lecture how it's illogical to praise or reward her just for being the person she is. She doesn't say anything, though; she seems taken aback, but she gives him a soft little smile before she turns to leave.

 

Booth stares after her and realizes with a mixture of shock and wonder that he's head over heels in love with Temperance Brennan, and that he has no idea what he's supposed to do with this realization.

 

+++

 

Gossip about the Jeffersonian Ice Queen's little run-in with Crystal Meth is all over the bullpen by the time Booth arrives at his desk, and he considers it monumentally unfair that he didn't get to see his partner high as a kite the previous evening. There was nothing he could do about it – he was alone with Parker when he got the call, and nobody pulls a babysitter out of thin air at half past ten in the evening.

 

Booth keeps things coolly professional with Agent Furst during the briefing and shoots him a death glare when the man cracks a joke about stoned scientists – Furst is an okay guy, but the fact that he would have taken over the case if Bones hadn't refused to work with anyone but her partner makes Booth feel a little ungracious towards him.

 

Bones looks like death warmed over when he finally makes it to the lab, but she snaps at him when he mentions it, so Booth figures it's better to leave the matter alone. Angela, green-faced and bleary-eyed herself, takes him aside and tells him how Bones refused to go home drugged and slept in her office after she was done with the crime scene, and Booth remembers the only night he ever went home to his son drunk and wonders how he's going to make it through this case with her without blurting out something he shouldn't.

 

They get into a near-fight about evidence versus conjecture on their way back from the studio of the victim's rival, and Booth almost loses it when she berates _him_ for being tense. He's downright relieved once he can drop her off at the lab, because it gets more and more difficult to be around her while he still has no clue what to do about the way she makes him feel when he _isn't_ fantasizing about strangling her. She's a good partner (never mind the strangling issue), and she has made it very clear that the only thing she wants from him outside of work is sex, so it's definitely better to keep his cool and to see how things will develop between them before he does something that might blow up in his face.

 

And yet, once he's finally home with Parker that evening, he can't get out of his mind how she wouldn't go home, how she left her daughter with the nanny all night rather than being around her while she was on drugs. At long last, he concedes defeat; they are _partners_ , after all, so he figures he should go and check on her to see if she's okay.

 

He takes Parker with him – not only because he's got nobody to watch him, but also because he wants to make it absolutely clear that he's _not_ coming over for a repeat performance of his first visit to her place. He runs into the nanny, a pretty young thing with a faint Russian accent, who leaves Bones' apartment just as Booth is about to knock – which can only mean that Bones just came home and that he really should have called before showing up on her doorstep unannounced after the day she's had.

 

Bones waves them in from the couch where she's sitting with her daughter in her lap, and Booth realizes too late that the baby is nursing. She notices his double-take, but misunderstands it because she tenses up and informs him that she tested her blood _and_ her breast milk at the lab to make sure that there are no traces of methamphetamine left in her system that might present a risk to her daughter.

 

Then Parker makes a dash for her and begins asking questions before Booth can stop him, and Booth is forced to watch with a mixture of embarrassment and disbelief while she calmly explains to the little boy that human mommies make milk for their babies in the same way that cows make milk for their calves. Parker quickly loses interest once his initial curiosity has been satisfied, and Booth gradually begins to relax when it becomes clear that the boy _isn't_ going to ask how he got his milk when he was smaller. He isn't quite sure how he feels about the fact that his son considers "mommy" a concept that doesn't apply to him, but he breathes easier once Bones pulls down her t-shirt so he no longer has to feel weirded out by his four year-old kid looking at her boobs.

 

She gives him a sidelong glance accompanied by a little smirk, and Booth realizes that she knows perfectly well what he's thinking and enjoys watching him squirm. He can't keep the sarcasm out of his tone when he points out that she seems to feel better, but she just gives a one-shouldered shrug while resting the baby against her other shoulder to burp her.

 

"This was the first time I let Angela convince me to go clubbing with her since Christine was born, and I can't say I'm eager to repeat the experience." She still holds his gaze when she adds, almost like an afterthought, "She wanted me to ask you to come too, you know."

 

_What the…_ If this were anyone but Bones, Booth would swear that she's flirting with him, but with her he feels as clueless as a teenager during his first date, which is probably why his answer comes out a little harsher than he intended.

 

"Not everyone has a live-in nanny so they can dance the night away whenever they feel like it."

 

"Oksana doesn't live here."

 

"Not even in this country, from the sound of it."

 

"She's had her US citizenship since she was nine. What she doesn't have yet is enough money to go to med school, so our current arrangement is advantageous for both of us. She wants to be a pediatrician, and she's very good with Christine. Besides, early exposure to another language will prove beneficial to Christine's linguistic development."

 

Booth is about to ask if she just told him in all seriousness that she makes the nanny speak Russian with her daughter, but the baby prevents it by spitting up all over Bones' shoulder. Parker goes "ewww" and starts giggling, but Bones just wipes her daughter's face and then puts her on the fluffy baby blanket on the floor by the couch. "Could you watch her for a moment? I'd like to get cleaned up."

 

Parker inches closer to the baby as soon as Bones is out the door, and Booth is torn between apprehension, amusement and… something else as he watches his son inspect his partner's daughter. Christine doesn't seem able to crawl yet, but she wiggles around enthusiastically and babbles something that sounds neither English nor Russian, but is cute enough in its own right. Parker leans forward to take a closer look, which proves to be a mistake because she makes a grab for his hair. He shrinks back with a yelp, which in turn startles the baby, who promptly begins to cry.

 

"Hey, bub, it's okay." Parker's stricken expression makes Booth hasten to reassure him. "You just startled her, is all. Look, she's fine…" He hesitates for a second, but the baby keeps wailing, so he eventually picks her up and settles her on his lap so she's facing Parker. "See? All better now."

 

Parker still seems doubtful, but the little girl calms down surprisingly fast once Booth starts rocking her gently. He's a little surprised; Parker used to be terrified of strangers at her age, but she gives no indication that she minds him holding her.

 

He has almost forgotten how tiny babies are, but now Booth vividly remembers Parker's first few months, which in some way were both the happiest and the most difficult months of his own life. Christine, now completely at ease, starts gurgling happily again, and Booth can't help thinking that she looks quite a bit like Parker did at her age.

 

He knows that he's probably imagining things, that the math is very much not in his favor in this matter, but he can't keep himself from wondering for just a moment what it would mean if Christine _were_ his daughter. It would definitely add another ton of complications to a number of things (such as his life in general, and his relationship with his partner in particular) that are already messy enough as it is, but he's well aware that there's a part of him which likes the idea.

 

"You know how to handle a baby."

 

How long has Bones been standing in the door watching him? Her hair is wet, and she's wearing a fresh t-shirt and a strange expression that looks almost a little sad.

 

Or he's imagining things again, and she just wants him gone so she can finally get some shut-eye because she must be dead on her feet.

 

"I've got this little guy here to thank for that." It's only now that Booth notices Parker has dozed off against the armrest of the couch. "Okay, Bones, I won't bother you any longer – I just wanted to make sure you're okay."

 

She tells him she's fine (even though he can see how exhausted she is), and it sounds a little softer than the usual brisk reassurance he gets from her on a daily basis. She takes her daughter from him, and Booth picks up his own kid who sleepily wraps his arms around his neck and curls into him like the baby he no longer is.

 

She walks him to the door and bids him good night, and Booth is about to leave when something in her expression makes him hesitate. They've been perfectly professional around each other since the end of their last case, but damn, this isn't in any way a work-related situation, and she keeps _looking_ at him in that way that makes him want to push his luck just to see where they're standing. So he leans in, careful not to jostle the sleeping boy in his arms, and presses a soft, close-mouthed kiss on her lips. Once again, she lets her mouth linger on his for just a second, and her smile stays with him all the way back home.

 

He still has no idea what's really happening here, what kind of mess he might have gotten himself into – but he knows for certain that whatever it is, he just got in a little deeper.

 

+++

 

Brennan isn't sure why Booth acts so surprised when she suggests that he should bring Parker over to her place where the nanny is staying with Christine. It's going to be a long night for both of them, now that the cadaver dog has located what are most likely Eve Warren's remains, and combining their resources seems like the most effective way to deal with the problem of childcare while they're both at work. Remembering the evening before, she promises him that Oksana won't mind speaking English while Parker is with her, and even though she doesn't understand why that makes him laugh, it finally puts an end to his protests – or maybe it's the fact that Parker's daycare facility closes in fifteen minutes and he's out of other options.

 

She calls Oksana while Booth is away and tells her that she'll pay her double hourly rates for watching a second child; Oksana seems fine with the arrangement, and even though Brennan assumes it's going to be an issue as soon as Booth finds out, she decides to save that argument for another day. If nothing else helps, she'll remind him of his claim that partners are supposed to have each other's backs.

 

+++

 

"Are you okay?"

 

"Just tired."

 

He really shouldn't be this exhausted; it's the middle of the afternoon, and the fact that they've successfully closed the case means he'll get a quiet evening and an early night for once, but he feels weary to the bone. He can see that she's tired too – the way she's leaning against the bar, head bowed and shoulders slumped, makes it very obvious that even the formidable Dr. Brennan isn't indestructible.

 

Still, he must look really bad if _Bones_ feels the need to comment on it, and it reminds him that he hasn't had a vacation since before Rebecca got pregnant. The pang of longing that accompanies the thought immediately makes him feel guilty; he loves his son and wouldn't give up his life with Parker for anything, but there are days when he can't help wishing for a few days off, far away on a beach somewhere with nothing else to think of than which bar to hit next.

 

Bones gives him a strange look, and there's something in her expression that makes him admit that he could use a break. She doesn't seem surprised – maybe, he thinks, the thought has occurred to her too given how dead on her feet she looks. Of course she then goes logical on him and suggests that he should take a vacation (her "I'm sure arrangements for Parker could be made for a few days" almost sounds like an offer, and Booth isn't sure whether to feel touched by her willingness to help or embarrassed that she thinks he needs it), which forces him to explain that he doesn't think it would be a good idea for him to go on vacation alone.

 

He can tell that she doesn't understand, and it makes him wonder if the concept of having someone with her on her trips around the globe has even occurred to her. He remembers those days before Parker, when going away on his own would inevitably bring up fantasies of leaving everything behind and just following the horizon to see where it would take him, and even though he doesn't want them back, he sometimes misses the feeling of having the whole world at his fingertips with no obligations or responsibilities to limit his options.

 

Then he remembers the little girl that Eve Warren left behind, and suddenly everything he just thought feels frivolous and selfish. Bones is still looking at him, and before he can think better of it, he asks her if she ever worries whether she's doing what's best for her kid. For once he finds himself hoping that her analytical mind will come up with a better solution than his gut, that her cool logic will find a way for him to deal with the constant weight of anxiety and uncertainty that has become his ever-present companion since Parker was born.

 

She seems taken aback, and she's silent for a long time before she finally answers. At last, she says that she considers all the variables very carefully before making a decision that concerns her daughter, and that she's confident she's doing everything she can to the best of her abilities, but that it can still feel overwhelming sometimes to be completely responsible for another person's well-being and happiness.

 

Booth finds himself speechless for a moment. Not only is that a huge admission coming from her, it's also a perfect summary of all the things that keep him awake at night, and given that they approach pretty much everything in life from opposing angles, it feels strange to be on the exact same page with her all of a sudden.

 

She seems uneasy, and Booth decides not to push further. He can tell that it cost her a lot to say as much as she did, and he figures that he doesn't have the right to ask for more, so he just nods and tells her he gets it. She sounds relieved when she steers the conversation back to their earlier topic of solo vacations, but her claim that there's nothing wrong with being alone stings a little.

 

"Good things mean more if you can share them, Bones."

 

She counters that she would have missed out on many good things if she'd waited for someone to share them with, and Booth has no idea what he can say to that because she's probably telling the truth considering how her life has been going. Dejection settles like a lead weight on his chest as he realizes that it has become second nature to her to let people in up to a certain point and no further; that she might never be convinced to give up on the idea that she can depend on nobody but herself. It's strange, in a way; he has been on his own for almost the entire time since Parker's birth, but he has never felt as lonely as he does right now, with her close enough to touch and yet so far away that it seems like he'll never be able to bridge the gap between them.

 

Then she raises her glass in a mock toast and concedes that she does enjoy sharing the satisfaction of another successful case with him, and just like that the world becomes a little brighter again. He can tell that she's trying to make him feel better (she probably doesn't know that the mere fact that she _is_ trying already means she's successful) when she mentions that she, too, sometimes feels the strain of balancing her work obligations and the demands of raising a child – how she misses her yoga classes that she had to give up because she wants to spend what little free time she has with her daughter, and her early morning runs in the park that have turned into slow walks while pushing a stroller, which is nice but not the same as jogging.

 

Booth can relate – he does most of his workout at home these days because he doesn't have time to hit the gym, and he can't even remember when he's been to a park for anything else than a visit to the playground.

 

He's not really sure how it happens (maybe neither of them are), but that's how they end up at the park together the following Saturday morning; Christine is dozing in her stroller, and Parker runs around gathering dried-out chestnuts while Booth and Bones take turns walking with the kids while the other one is running.

 

Parker seems fine with Bones watching him – he has taken a shine to Oksana (Booth still isn't over the morning when his son, bursting with pride, said good-bye at the daycare center with a resounding _do svidaniya_ ) and obviously understands that he has Bones to thank for that, so he's on his best behavior around her. Christine fusses a few times while Booth is on babysitting duty, but she's easy enough to distract with a few tickles or funny faces. It's one of those rare moments when everything seems to go right for once, and when they're finally both done running and walk the rest of the way together, Booth can't help wishing he could freeze the picture because it feels like he's been granted a few enchanted hours of a kind of life he never thought he'd get to have.

 

It doesn't work like that, of course; before he knows it, they're back at the park entrance where their cars are parked. He'd love to kiss her good-bye again like he did the last time it was just them and the children, but Parker is wide awake this time, and Booth isn't sure what either Bones or Parker would think of that. He's still deliberating when Bones saves him the decision by stepping up to him and brushing a quick kiss on his lips like it's something she does every day.

 

Torn between elation and embarrassment, Booth casts a quick glance in the direction of his son. Parker, lips puckered expectantly, is looking straight at Bones with an expression that makes it perfectly clear what he thinks is supposed to happen now, and Booth feels like his heart stops for a moment.

 

Then Bones laughs and bends down to give the boy a big, smacking kiss. Parker giggles and waves good-bye as she walks back to her car with her daughter, and Booth just stands there grinning like an idiot and realizes that he needs to put "sharing good things" on the list of amazing talents he keeps discovering in his partner.

 

+++

 

It's fun to tease Bones about her fruitless attempts to get a gun permit from him, and Booth hopes she won't catch on to the underlying reason why he doesn't want her to carry a concealed weapon. He knows that she's brave (more than is good for her, sometimes), and that she's used to taking care of herself, but it's _his_ job to keep her safe when they're working together, and he doesn't want that to change.

 

He starts wishing he hadn't made fun of her, though, when Amy Morton shows up and coaxes him into re-opening the April Wright case that was one of the first he got to work back in his rookie days. He's still certain that Howard Epps killed the girl, but Amy has a point about the unanswered questions that were ignored during his trial, and Booth has too much blood on his hands to stand by and let the guy get executed if there's even a shred of a chance that he _might_ be innocent after all. 

 

He's pretty uncomfortable about approaching Bones and asking her to sacrifice her weekend for an off-the-books wild goose chase just a few hours after the gun debacle, and his discomfort grows into full-blown mortification when she not only agrees, but even offers to let Parker stay at her place with the nanny again while they're working the case.

 

She seems curious about Amy, and Booth finds himself looking for a hint of jealousy (although his past relationship with Amy never went beyond mild flirting), but of course that's too much to hope for – a little light needling about his "thing" for lawyers is all he gets from her on the matter. She makes it very clear that she's doing _him_ a favor and not Amy, but Booth figures that's mostly to twist the knife after he refused to do her a favor about the gun.

 

+++

 

Brennan wonders why Booth seems so uncomfortable with the idea of her and Amy working together. She respects the woman's determination to do everything she can for her client, and she finds it commendable that she's is trying to get to the bottom of the questions that have remained unanswered so far. Amy isn't objective, of course; she's trying to find proof for what she believes to be true instead of gathering all the facts and then drawing her conclusions, but that's Booth's usual approach as well, so Brennan is getting used to dealing with it.

 

She's a little nosier than Brennan would have preferred about the nature of her relationship with Booth, but being friends with Angela has made Brennan very good at deflecting questions she doesn't want to answer. She isn't overly bothered by Amy's interest in Booth – Booth keeps insisting that he neither has been in a sexual relationship with the pretty young lawyer nor wants to start one now. Besides, it's none of her business who else he's sleeping with – it's not like they're in a relationship, after all, and she has made that very clear to him, so she doubts that he'd feel obliged to hide any interest he might have in Amy from her.

 

Booth's alleged remark about her "mania for the truth" sting a little, though – not only because she would have expected him to appreciate her dedication to the truth, but also because the idea of Booth mocking her behind her back to create a rapport with a woman he wants to impress is an uncomfortable reminder of her high school days. Then again, there's a chance that Amy related his words incorrectly, so Brennan decides not to make assumptions until she has all the facts.

 

+++

 

When Booth gets called into Cullen's office, he fully expects an order to drop the investigation immediately, and he braces himself for worse considering that he's freelancing on a case that the FBI closed seven years ago. The Deputy Director seems indeed prepared to rip him a new one, but as soon as Booth mentions Bones' name, Cullen changes tack. He makes it very clear that everything that goes wrong will be on Booth's head, which coming from Cullen is a tacit permission to basically do whatever he pleases as long as it gets results, and Booth realizes with no small amount of astonishment just how much weight his partnership with Bones carries in the eyes of his bosses. Cullen may not like her, but he respects her enough to let her get away with it when she stands up to him – stands up for Booth – while they're talking to him together a few hours later, and Booth can't believe his ears when she actually gets the manpower and equipment they need from him.

 

They're racing against the clock now, and even Bones is getting testy when she ropes him into helping her dig. Therefore, it comes as a surprise when she suddenly decides to make small talk and asks him what he would be doing on a normal weekend, and Booth would like to remind her that she knows damn well given that they've been spending much of their weekends together with their kids lately. He figures that's not what she wants to hear, though, so he evades and just tells her that he'd try to relax and have some fun, and she asks him a little too casually if that includes Amy.

 

"I'm not having sex with Amy, and I have never cheated on any woman I have ever been with!"

 

His outburst makes her raise her head and give him a bewildered look, and Booth realizes too late what he just told her by admitting that he would consider sleeping with Amy cheating. He tenses all over because he might just have pushed her too far given her skittishness when it comes to the topic of relationships, but she just shrugs and goes back to digging.

 

They work in silence for a while, and Booth gradually allows himself to relax. He wishes she'd talk to him again, though, so he finally asks her what _she_ would usually be doing now, and she rattles off a long list of possibilities – spending time with Christine, doing consultations for colleagues or other government agencies, working on a few papers that are due soon, or writing peer reviews for one of the academic journals that have her on their review board.

 

It reminds him how much is going on in her life that is completely unrelated to her work with him, but there's no way to tell her why the thought makes him uncomfortable, so he makes light of the issue and quips that he's wondering how she ever found the time to write a best-selling novel in the middle of all that. She shrugs again and informs him that she had plenty of time for writing during the last trimester of her pregnancy because she was on strict bed rest due to a partial placental abruption, and Booth almost drops his shovel in shock.

 

"Bones, I had no idea – I mean, you're both okay, aren't you?"

 

"We are." Her tone is clinical, and she doesn't look at him when she continues. "It was very uncomfortable at the time, and Christine was still born prematurely in spite of all the precautions I took, but neither of us suffered any lasting damage."

 

Time seems to slow down to a crawl as the implications dawn on him. The numbers that didn't add up, the dates that were all wrong no matter how often he re-calculated… _Christine was born prematurely_.

 

What is she saying? This is Bones, who doesn't let things slip, who thinks twice about every tiny bit of personal information she shares – what is she trying to tell him, and why is she telling him now, in the middle of the night in a place where a young girl was beaten to death?

 

His mind is still reeling when her shovel hits a skull, and suddenly there's no time for their personal lives any more – suddenly he has to decide whether to let a ruthless killer die or to give his victims a chance to be heard, whether to go with his gut and send the bastard straight to hell where he belongs or to do what he's sworn to do, to uphold the law and to make sure that emotions don't replace justice.

 

He's tempted, he's oh so tempted to twiddle his thumbs for another half hour, but deep down he's grateful that she pushes him towards doing what he knows is right whether he likes it or not.

 

He's even more grateful when she breaks Epps' wrist a while later. It helps a little to think of that moment when they finally find themselves at Wong Fu's, sharing a glum kind of companionship for a while before they can bring themselves to go home, and even though he acts dismissive about her "Nobel prize speech", he's glad of the reassurance she's trying to give him.

 

He's still preoccupied with her earlier words, with the realization that it's suddenly not as unlikely as he thought that he might be Christine's father. She must have known he'd realize it when she told him, and he has no idea what he's supposed to do now. He remembers how, just a little over a week ago, Christine drooled all over his shirt when he held her, and how he was tempted to have her DNA tested so he could know for sure. Yet he ended up stuffing the shirt into the washer that evening – for the same reason he never asked about Christine's father again after that first evening in Bones' apartment. He's still afraid that the price he'd pay for knowing would be too high if he forced her into an admission she's not ready for, that their slow, careful dance around each other might turn into a bitter fight in which he has very little to gain and everything to lose.

 

His mind is a jumble of conflicting thoughts and feelings when he's finally back at her place to get Parker. Sid's toast to "simple pleasures" is still ringing in his ears, and the world becomes a brighter place when Parker runs towards him and flings himself into his arms. He holds his son close and feels some of the day's tension drain away, and from the way Bones is clutching her baby to her chest, her feelings are perfectly in synch with his for once.

 

The nanny passes him by on her way to the door, and Booth slips her a fifty for the hassle of watching an extra child. She takes it, but tells him that it's no trouble, that Parker is a very pleasant child and that he's lucky to have such a sweet son. Booth notices absent-mindedly that she's really _very_ pretty with her dark eyes, wheat-blond hair and legs that go on forever, but the only thing she makes him feel is gratitude that Parker likes her, and it hits him just how much truth there seems to have been in what he let slip with his remark about Amy earlier.

 

Then Bones is next to him and asks him if he can watch Christine while she hits the shower, and Booth takes the sleepy baby from her and settles down on the couch. Parker, who seems perfectly at home at Bones' place by now, has already gone back to playing with the toys he brought along, so Booth is left alone with Bones' daughter and his own inner turmoil.

 

He wants to focus on the question of her paternity, but the longer he watches Christine as she dozes off  with her tiny hands clenched into the fabric of his shirt, the more he realizes it's not what's foremost on his mind. He keeps thinking of April Wright, of a young life brutally cut short, and the sudden impulse to protect this tiny being in his arms from every danger that might ever come near her takes him by surprise in its intensity. Maybe he really is her father, but he finds that right now he can't bring himself to worry about it; whether she's his or not, he realizes that he wants to be around to see her grow up, that he longs to be a part of her life as well as her mother's.

 

"Stay."

 

He didn't even hear Bones come back, but now she's next to him with her hand on his arm, and he can feel _something_ pass between them in the split second that it takes him to make his decision.

 

Parker loves the idea of sleeping on Bones' couch tonight (it may have to do with the fact that he's allowed to bounce on her couch, which is strictly forbidden at home), and even though it should feel awkward when Bones asks the boy if he'll be okay sleeping alone in the living room because the couch is too small for his dad, who will get to sleep in the big bed in her bedroom, Booth has to smile at Parker's eager reassurance that he's a big boy and will be fine on his own.

 

He reminds Parker three times that he can come and get him if he needs anything during the night, but that he has to knock because it's the polite thing to do before walking into a lady's bedroom. Parker scrunches up his face and tells him that Bones is a doctor, not a lady, which sends her into a giggling fit and finally breaks the weird tension between them as they all get ready for bed.

 

He tells himself he isn't going to have sex with her while his son is sleeping next door, but all his restraints fly out the window the moment they're finally alone together in her bed and the weight of the past two days comes crashing down on them. He's so tired of worrying and fretting and questioning his every move – he just wants something, _somebody_ to hold on to, and there's no stopping as soon as she touches him. It's neither the frantic need of their first time nor the sweet, gentle exploration that he coaxed her into during that night in Aurora – this is something else, a new, powerful sense of urgency that makes it impossible for them to let go of each other, that leaves them clinging to what they have together without questioning what it might be, and when she finally falls asleep still wrapped around him, he can't help feeling that they made love for the first time tonight.

 

He struggles to stay awake for as long as he can because just like he did during that morning in the park, he wishes this moment could last forever – here in her home, in her bed, with her in his arms and their children safely asleep just a few steps away. He knows he may be setting himself up for disappointment by asking too much of a fate that has always been careful to keep his glass half filled, but he still allows himself to dream, just for a second, that there might be a future for him, for _them_ that looks a little bit like this.

 

+++

 

Brennan is a little surprised when she realizes that she has absolutely no desire to have sex with Michael again. She can tell that he's interested (the physical aspect of their relationship was always at least as satisfying as the intellectual one, after all), but his flirting doesn't evoke the physiological response it used to from her. She's looking forward to a stimulating scientific debate when she asks him out to dinner, but she isn't even certain whether she should tell him about her daughter, and the evening definitely isn't going to end at her place even though Michael clearly assumes it will.

 

She used to consider his confident self-assurance impressive, but now she can't help finding it a little irritating. She'll probably have to remind him that _he_ was the one who taught her not to make assumptions until all the evidence is in.

 

+++

 

Booth spends the evening trying to let Parker distract him from the nagging question what Bones and the smarmy professor are up to right now. He knows there's no point in dwelling on it; they haven't put any kind of label on the non-relationship they're having, they definitely haven't made any promises to each other, and she has made clear enough what she thinks of love and monogamy. He shouldn't even let her notice that he's bothered by the reappearance of her old flame because it would probably just earn him a lecture about one alpha male resenting another invading on what he considers his territory, and he really doesn't need to have his feelings broken down into anthropological catchphrases.

 

He's aware that it's stupid, but he's still at the lab first thing in the morning because he just has to _know_. He fully expects her not to be in yet, but she's on the platform poring over the remains of the fridge girl with Zack at her elbow. She looks well-rested, but there's no hint of that lazy post-coital glow he remembers, and Booth's mood goes up another notch when he sees Stires sulking in the background with an expression that's _so_ not that of a guy who got lucky last night. He starts feeling even better when Bones and the professor get into a catfight over the correct interpretation of the victim's wrist fractures, and he decides to enjoy the show from a safe distance for a while before he whisks her away to interview the girl's parents.

 

But then a furious-looking Angela swoops in and barely waits until she has dragged him out of earshot before she starts ranting how it's his fault that Bones isn't getting any action from anyone now.

 

"You won't give her the time of day, and now she's blowing off the hot professor too!"

 

Booth, still speechless, finds himself the focus of a glare that would make even the toughest guy's balls shrivel. "What is up with you two anyway? She swore up and down that she didn't sleep with you last year, but I still have a hard time believing it."

 

_That sound she made when he pinned her against the brick wall and pushed into her…_

 

No, there was definitely no sleeping involved, and he figures that in Bones' literal mind it was enough to not consider it a lie. He _will_ have to lie now, of course, but the fact that he feels very much like kissing Angela for what she just let slip makes up for his annoyance about her constant meddling with Bones' sex life, so he manages to sound pretty calm when he reminds her that she'd better believe it because he and Bones are just partners.

 

He tries not to dwell on the thought while he and Bones conduct interviews and corner their suspects, and it isn't until he finds himself standing over a heap of SM toys with her that he slips up. He has never been into that stuff, but the sight of her playing with a riding crop still does funny things to his nether regions, and he tries to gloss over the awkward moment with a careless dismissal of the whole thing.

 

To his utter surprise she agrees with him, but the lazy smile that accompanies her words makes his pants feel even tighter because they both know perfectly well that they're not discussing the Costellos' sex life any more. Then she smacks him with the crop, and Booth turns around and snaps at the suspects before he says or does something he'll regret.

 

He's still in a weird mood when the takes her back to the lab, where he gets to watch her stick it to her former professor but can't really enjoy it because it ends with Stires having to buy her another dinner. Angela shoots him a knowing look, but Booth walks out before she can corner him again. He's back two hours later with the news that Stires has basically been spying on Bones so he can rip apart her case, and even though a part of him feels smug that his gut was dead on about the guy, he hates the way her face crumples for just a second before the calm, professional mask is back.

 

It's good to see how her people close rank around her, how even Goodman goes all Papa Bear on Stires' ass ( _Not so alpha any more now, douchebag, huh?_ Booth's inner voice gleefully supplies), and he loves that she never backs down, that every low blow from Stires only makes her more determined to show him who's best, but he still can't help thinking that he doesn't blame her for not believing in anything relationship-related that goes beyond "biological urges" if _that's_ how the men in her life have been treating her so far.

 

Then he's sitting in a courtroom and has to watch Stires tear into her, and he wants to punch the guy for pissing all over everything she stands for, for confirming her deep-seated belief that she can rely on nobody but herself since trusting only means opening herself up to betrayal. He hates to see her floundering because she cares too much about her work to turn it into a performance, but he knows that it's going to be used against her.

 

He can think of only one thing he can do to make the jury see how much she cares, that she's neither cold nor unfeeling underneath her scientific brilliance, even if he's well aware that she would feel less humiliated if he forced her to appear naked before them. He gets why she needs her armor, both in her work and in her life (hell, Stires has just _proven_ how much she needs it), and he treasures the knowledge that he's one of the privileged few who were allowed a glimpse behind it. Yet there's no way around the fact that he has to abuse her precious trust in him if they want to win, if he doesn't want her to live with the knowledge that her unyielding integrity lost them a murder case.

 

He knows that all his choices are bad, that she'll end up getting hurt no matter what he does, so he finally goes with the choice that _won't_ allow two killers to walk.

 

She may never forgive him, but he reckons that whatever he puts her through can't be worse than what Stires did to her before, and he just can't let Stires' slanders against her character stand unchallenged. The lawyers are fretting, but Booth is sure that she has it in her to turn the case around, that she won't be cowed by anything he _or_ Stires throw at her.

 

She isn't, of course – he can see what it costs her, but she rises to the occasion in a way that floors him completely. She doesn't even take the bait, refuses to play the sympathy game when her troubled past is dragged into the spotlight – she brushes it aside and reminds them all why they're really here, why her feeling or their feelings or _anyone's_ feelings don't matter because the only thing that matters is getting justice for the victims.

 

He wishes there was a way for him to tell her how her testimony made him feel, how he's both immensely proud and deeply humbled to know that she chose _him_ as her partner in her fight for those who can no longer speak for themselves, but of course there isn't – not now, when it would only make her think that he's trying to charm his way out of taking responsibility for what he did to her. He truly is sorry that it had to come to this, but he does his best not to act too contrite around her – it's something she'll have to come to grips with on her own, so he figures the best thing he can do now is to give her space.

 

+++

 

Maybe it was foolish to be so open with him; it certainly was irrational, and it shouldn't come as a surprise that she's paying the price for it.

 

In the end, Booth betrays her just as Michael did, but at least Booth had a reason for it that she can respect. He says he's sorry, and she believes him, even if she knows that he'd do it again in a heartbeat if he had to.

 

In a way, she finds the knowledge reassuring.

 

+++

 

It's a cruel irony that _this_ one of all their cases finally gets him out of the bullpen and earns him his long-awaited promotion. Booth gingerly sits down behind the desk in his new office and has no idea what he's supposed to do. Had this come at any other time, he'd already be calling her so they can celebrate their successful partnership, but as things are now, he feels like he sold her out in exchange for his shiny new SSA badge.

 

At long last, a guy who got burnt to a crisp on the Washington Monument saves him the decision whether to contact her or not, but Booth finds that he isn't sure how to behave around her. She's curt and professional, but the hurt underneath is obvious enough, and the nagging feeling of guilt finally gets him to come clean about his promotion.

 

She doesn't comment on it; she keeps her eyes on the body she's inspecting and asks almost casually if he's trying to tell her that he'll no longer work with her.

 

"Bones." His hand on her arm finally gets her to look at him. "I got the promotion _because_ I work with you, and you know it damn well. So – thank you and… and I'm sorry."

 

"You had something to accomplish, and you found a logical way of getting what you needed." Her tone is composed, but there's something in her voice that makes Booth breathe a little easier. "I probably would have done the same thing. And – congratulations."

 

"Thank you." He trusts that she knows what he's talking about, and her smile tells him she does. It's almost midnight when they're finally done with the crime scene, and he'll have to hurry if he wants to make it back home before the sitter leaves, so he can't put it off any longer to ask the question that's been on his mind the whole evening.

 

"Bones, are we still on for Saturday morning? You know – at the park, with the kids?"

 

"Why wouldn't we be?" She sounds genuinely puzzled, as if the possibility hadn't even occurred to her, and Booth curses the agents and FBI techs surrounding them because he can't remember another moment when he was aching _this_ badly to kiss her.

 

+++

 

This can't be happening.

 

She knows it's an irrational supposition, that all kinds of unforeseeable circumstances might prevent her from spending one specific day with her daughter, but ever since they were told that they're trapped in the lab, the words have been running on a loop in her mind like a frenzied mantra. _This can't be happening_.

 

Christine cannot, _must not_ be alone during her very first Christmas.

 

+++

 

It takes Booth half an hour of frantic phone calls until he's found a way to not completely ruin Parker's Christmas. Sid agrees to take the boy in over the holidays – or as long as this damned quarantine lasts – and to let him celebrate Christmas with the family. Parker likes Sid, knows all of Sid's children, and Booth figures it's the best he can do under the circumstances. Bones offered to let Parker stay with Christine and her nanny (Oksana won't go home to celebrate with her parents until the Russian Orthodox holidays at the beginning of January), but Booth hates the idea of his son having to spend Christmas with a hired babysitter, so he's relieved when it turns out it won't be necessary.

 

He calls Parker at the daycare center and does his best to explain, and Parker gets over his initial disappointment when Booth reminds him that it means he'll get two Christmases this year because they'll have their own belated Christmas celebration as soon as he gets out of the damned lab.

 

Then he gets that anti-fungal shot, and suddenly the world is a swirling mass of bright colors and pretty dancing lights. He still knows who he is and what is happening to him, but everything is a little fuzzy, the usual sharp edges softened and the general undertone of life a bit friendlier than usual. He finds himself in a sleeping bag on the floor in Goodman's office without really knowing how he got there, but somehow they end up talking about their kids and how much it sucks not to be with them tonight, which leaves him with the nagging feeling at the back of his mind that he's forgetting something.

 

Goodman dozes off pretty soon, but Booth feels oddly energized; maybe the drugs are wearing off, and maybe it's just the need to figure out what's bugging him that keeps him awake.

 

Kids. Parents without their kids. Kids without their parents. Bones…

 

Oh God, _Bones_.

 

She's supposed to be asleep in Angela's office, but to his total lack of surprise he finds her sitting behind her own desk. She startles violently when he calls out to her, and for a moment she looks so incredibly young and lonely that it's like a stab to the heart. She gets up as he walks in, and he just wants to hug her, to assure her that everything will be okay, but before he can say or do anything she's plastered all over him, her mouth hot on his and her hands busy with his belt buckle.

 

His first impulse is to give in, but _that_ look on her face is still vivid in his mind, and he pulls back in spite of her dismayed growl.

 

"Bones, wait – you're upset, I don't want to take adv-"

 

"And you're high, so I guess we're on even footing."

 

Before he can think of a comeback to that, they've both got their pants and underwear around their knees, and the next thing he knows is her ass pressing against his crotch as she bends over her desk in a way that no guy in the world – no matter how stoned – could misunderstand. He fleetingly wonders whether it's fitting or blasphemous that one of his favorite fantasies should come true on Christmas Eve, but then she snaps at him to _get on with it, dammit_ , and he stops thinking altogether as he pushes into her. It's the alley all over again, muffled cries and half-swallowed curses and the hammering of his own heartbeat in his ears all blending together into a frenzied cacophony until it's all drowned out by the breathless, glorious rush of sensation that leaves him limp as a rag doll against her back when it's over.

 

When he wakes up on the couch in her office, it's early morning and there's no sign of Bones. He finds her on the platform, where she lectures him about the dead guy's osteological profile and how Christ – if he existed – was really born in late spring, and he knows her well enough not to bother her when she's in that kind of mood. He's tempted to ask her what the deal is with her and Christmas, but he isn't stupid enough to actually bring it up, and he's deeply grateful for that as soon as Angela spills the beans during breakfast.

 

_Brennan's parents disappeared just before Christmas when she was fifteen._

 

Booth thinks of the forlorn expression on Bones' face, of baby Christine spending her first Christmas with the nanny instead of her mother, and he feels like the biggest idiot on God's green earth for not getting it sooner, antifungal trip or not.

 

So he does what he can to help her with the identification of their victim, and once they sit down for the Squinty version of Christmas dinner, he mostly manages to hold his tongue when, as soon as the topic of Careful Lionel's pregnant girlfriend comes up, Bones starts babbling about the "Christ myth" being built upon the derails of an unwed mother. He can't help it that it makes him think back to his impulsive proposal to Rebecca, and for the first time he wonders how Bones explained her pregnancy to the nosy bunch she works with – a one-night stand with a guy whose name she didn't bother to learn? A casual fling who took off as soon as he heard the news? Artificial insemination? He'd love to ask Angela, but that would be akin to opening his veins in a shark-infested ocean – Angela of all people can't ever know just how close to home that question hits for him, and he has no doubt that she'd sniff it out in no time at all if she ever picked up the scent of blood in the water.

 

So he keeps quiet, but when it's his turn to see Parker, he holds out his hand in silent invitation and feels his heart go out to her when, after a second's hesitation, Bones takes it and follows him to the glass doors. She refused to let Oksana bring Christine, claiming that the little girl would only be upset if she saw her mother through a thick wall of glass, but now she presses her nose against the door to make Parker laugh, and like Booth she doesn't stop waving good-bye until the little boy is out of sight. Again, he wishes he could hug her, could assure her that everything will be okay, but Hodgins is already waiting in line for his turn with the Canadian masseuse, and Bones lets go of Booth's hand and informs him that she's going to start searching for Ivy Gillespie.

 

Two hours later he approaches her office and overhears Bones telling Angela how she believed that her parents had come back when her brother tried to make Christmas for her, and he silently promises himself that he _is_ going to hug her as soon as they're finally out of here.

 

Then the Squint Squad gathers around Angela's holographic Christmas tree, and it isn't lost on Booth how Bones walks out before they get to the gift-exchanging part. He comes as close as he ever will to kissing Zack when he unwraps the robot and realizes just how much Parker is going to love it, but as soon as he can, he slips away and goes to find his Christmas-boycotting partner.

 

She tries to distract him with a hundred thousand dollar penny, but this time he isn't going to fall for any kind of diversionary tactic.

 

"Bones, when we get out of here…"

 

"I found Ivy Gillespie." She talks right over him as if she hadn't heard him. "In an assisted living facility near Bethesda. I spoke to her granddaughter; she's going to bring her to the lab after the holidays so she can finally get some answers."

 

"That's great, Bones. Look, I promised Parker that we'll celebrate Christmas again as soon as I'm out of here, and I want you to come and celebrate with us. You and Christine, I mean."

 

She just looks at him in that way she has, as if he were a skeleton laid out on her table, and Booth holds his breath and hopes it won't be too obvious that his heart is in his throat. Then she points out how there's not enough room for all of them at his apartment, and Booth braces himself for the inevitable rejection until she adds almost casually that it would be much more practical for them to celebrate at her place.

 

It seems ironic that someone who scoffs at the idea of Christmas magic can make it _happen_ with just a few words, but Booth knows better than to analyze an unexpected gift that life hands him when he can just enjoy it instead.

 

+++

 

It's strange to witness that a grown man is not only still capable of childlike wonder, but will even insist on holding on to a child's beliefs although they must fly in the face of the experiences he has gathered during his adult life. And yet, it suits him; she'll never share his irrational approach, but she can't really imagine Booth without it either.

 

He would probably be easier to interact with if he gave it up, but he wouldn't be _Booth_ any more, and even though she would never admit it to him because his ego is big enough already, she finds that she prefers him the way he is.

 

+++

 

Parker is giddy with excitement at the prospect of a second Christmas, and Booth quickly ushers him into the living room while Bones makes a beeline for Christine's bassinet. Oksana ruffles Parker's hair and wishes him Merry Christmas on her way to the door, but Booth barely notices her. His eyes are glued to the corner of the room that's taken up by a glittering mass of lights and colors, and he can't help getting a little choked up over the fact that the woman who doesn't believe in Christmas got the biggest, shiniest tree she could find for her daughter who's too young to understand or remember it.

 

They gather around the tree, and Bones doesn't even protest when Parker wants them to sing a Christmas carol. Booth is surprised to find out that she has a lovely singing voice, although he should have known better than to tell her so because she informs him in return that _he_ managed to redefine the term "tone deaf" with his rendition of _Silent Night_. Parker giggles, and then squeals with delight as he unwraps the robot Zack built. Booth has to swallow another lump in his throat when it turns out that Bones has a present for Parker too, some kind of kiddy scientist kit that will probably turn his son into a mini-squint if he isn't careful. He's been debating with himself for weeks whether he should buy Christmas gifts for her and Christine, and now he wishes he had gone with his gut and just gotten them something instead of listening to his inner voice of reason that reminded him she might see it as an attempt to stake a claim. It's too late now, and he can only hope that he'll get another chance next year.

 

She has no marshmallows, and Booth thinks that her organic fair-trade cocoa tastes like dishwater, but Parker declares it yummy and drinks it so greedily that he ends up with brown sludge over half his face. Christine seems utterly fascinated by the sparkling lights on the tree, and even though she doesn't get the significance of Christmas presents yet, she happily plays with the wrapping until she falls asleep in a heap of brightly colored paper scraps.

 

Then the kids are in bed (Christine in the nursery and Parker on the couch by the tree, Zack's robot still clutched to his chest), and Booth drags Bones into the kitchen because he insists it's not really Christmas without eggnog. They have to improvise since she doesn't have all the ingredients, but the result tastes quite nice, and Booth seizes the opportunity to lean in and kiss the sticky sweetness off her lips.

 

"I wanted to get you a present." He isn't sure what makes him confess that, but it seems important, even though she just shakes her head and reminds him of what she said earlier about gift-giving. She's smiling when she does, but the smile fades when he admits that he keeps thinking of what she told Angela about those last gifts from her parents that she never opened.

 

She's giving him that look again, the one that strips him down to his bones and makes him feel about three feet tall, but she doesn't seem angry or upset, merely thoughtful. Then she tells him to wait and walks out; he can hear her rummaging around in the adjacent room, and after a while she comes back with a few banged-up parcels in faded gift wrapping.

 

+++

 

She doesn't know what made her do it. She isn't used to this; she always has a reason for every action, but now she'd be hard-pressed to say why she's suddenly willing to part with something that has been with her for half her life, has been carried around in garbage bags for years even though she always considered it her most precious possession.

 

If there had been even the slightest hint of pity in his eyes, she would have told him to mind his own business, but even though he draws in a sharp breath when he realizes what the parcels are, he doesn't try to coddle or patronize her. Maybe, she figures, it's indeed time to let go of these remnants of her pasts, so she tears the colorful paper in the same way she would rip off a band-aid. The contents don't mean much – she's not the teenaged girl these presents were meant for any more, but still, it provides an almost peaceful feeling of closure to finally see them instead of just guessing at their shape through the wrapping.

 

It takes her a while to notice that he's had his arm around her shoulders since she began unwrapping the parcels, and her first impulse is to pull away, but something in his expression makes her wonder if he's really doing it for her sake, if it isn't something _he_ needs right now –

to feel like he's somehow contributing to easing a burden that isn't his to bear. With that in mind, she leans in when he pulls her into an embrace, and the way his arms tighten around her as soon as he realizes she won't resist confirms her suspicion. He has probably been unduly influencing her with his romanticized notion of Christmas, but she can't deny that she enjoys the idea that this is something she's able to give him.

 

+++

 

"I… have something for you."

 

She steps out of his arms as she says it, and he isn't sure what to make of her expression – maybe it's embarrassment at breaking her own rules, but she's out of the door before he gets the chance to ask a question. He hears a drawer opening and shutting in the living room, and then she's back with a folded sheet of paper held out before her.

 

His heart is suddenly in his throat, and then seems to drop all the way down to his stomach when he unfolds the paper.

 

It's a paternity affidavit.

 

He's seen this before; Rebecca gave him the same thing to sign right after Parker was born. He'd naively assumed that putting his name on Parker's birth certificate would be enough, but that was one of the advantages of dating a lawyer: she patiently explained to him how the law cared less about biology than about legal status, and that – since he wasn't married to his son's mother – it was necessary to for him to officially acknowledge his paternity so he'd really be Parker's father in the eyes of the law.

 

Now he reads through the official-sounding text that declares him the legal father of Christine Angela Brennan, born April 12, 2005, in accordance to the sworn statement of her mother, Dr. Temperance Brennan; her neat, flowing signature underneath is right next to another dotted line that is, as of yet, blank.

 

His mind is strangely blank too as he stares at the page, and then stares at her; she appears calm, but the look in her eyes tells him she's anything but.

 

"What… what do you want me to do with this?"

 

"That's up to you."

 

What she says to him often sounds like a challenge, but somehow this doesn't.

 

He finds himself taken back to that evening when he learned of Christine's existence, and he remembers how furious he was when he saw her standing there with a baby in her arms and could only assume that she'd kept this from him. Now, though, he can't help wondering what he would have done if she'd told him back then – or right away, just a few short weeks after their last encounter when his ego was still smarting from that slap to the face and the way she had walked out on him.

 

As much as he wishes he could have witnessed every second of Christine's life from the very first moment just like he did with Parker, he knows better than to believe he would have gotten the chance after _that_ beginning. You don't start a relationship with "Hey, I'm pregnant and you're the father."

 

Not that he's certain that what they have right now can be called a relationship, but it's _something_ , something that's precious to both of them, because he's standing here with a woman who doesn't believe in anything she can't measure or calculate, and who still took a huge leap of faith by deciding to entrust him with what is most precious in the world to her.

 

He fleetingly wonders how long she's been thinking about this; how long it took her to get that piece of paper, and how long she's had it before she could bring herself to give it to him.

 

_You don't deserve to be a father._

 

The memory of Pops yelling at Dad, loud enough for the whole neighborhood to hear, is suddenly fresh in his mind as if it had happened only yesterday. He has always promised himself, promised Parker that he'll be the father he never had himself, the father he wishes his own Dad had been, and he wonders if Bones will ever know what it means to him that the genius who takes it as her due that she makes the rest of the world look a little stupid, the brilliant scientist who's the terror of interns, local cops and FBI techs if she so much as suspects that someone isn't living up to her expectations, the former foster child who won't let anyone get too close for fear of being left behind again – that this woman considers him worthy of being her daughter's father.

 

He knows it's not something you should have to earn, but he still likes the idea that he has.

 

And yet, she has only shown her hand, she's not forcing his; they're in her kitchen, not in a courtroom or a notary office, and he understands very well that she's trying to make it clear she's offering him a choice.

 

Once more, he's reminded of Rebecca's explanation that biology isn't the law's first concern in these matters, and of the one answer she still hasn't given him.

 

"Bones… there's something I need to ask you."

 

"Yes, I assumed there would be."

 

She doesn't sound surprised, and her expression doesn't change; it's obvious that she's sure of the question she's going to hear.

 

Booth takes a deep breath and finds that the tight knot in his throat has disappeared, that it's suddenly easy to breathe again as he thinks of the little girl sleeping peacefully just a few steps away. He puts the paper on the kitchen counter and, carefully smoothing out the creases, asks,

 

"Do you have a pen?"

 

 

 

 

 

 

FIN


End file.
